


Convincing

by Nary



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Car Sex, F/M, Fake Prostitution, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-16
Updated: 2010-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-08 23:52:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nary/pseuds/Nary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene likes it when Cartwright dresses like a cheap whore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Convincing

He likes it when Cartwright dresses like a cheap whore. Too much lipstick and too little skirt. She keeps tugging it down. He likes to watch her do that, knowing that it's because his eyes are on her that she feels the need to cover herself.

She's been standing in the cold alley for two hours. She breathes on her hands to try and warm them. Gene watches from the car, backing her up. He'd like to back her up against the wall and lift that skirt, cover her with his body and warm her that way. Won't happen, but it's a nice thought to pass the time.

After another half-hour goes by, she strolls over to the car, casual as any working girl. Gene rolls down the window. "I don't think anything's happening," she says quietly. She's hoping he'll say she can call it a night, the lazy bitch. He's about to tell her she can suck it up and stand there til midnight, like the plan said, when he notices the pair of shifty-looking punters across the street.

"You're chatting me up," he mutters, trying to see what the men are doing without looking at them straight on.

She catches on fast. "So, what do you want, luv?" Hearing her red, red lips ask him that conjures up all sorts of unhelpful visions in his mind.

"Suck me off," he tells her, and leans over to open the passenger door. She trots around obediently, knowing it's all pretend.

The blokes are doing some deal, he's sure of it. Drugs, maybe, or maybe they're queers, he can't tell. Annie slides into the car. "Duck your head," he tells her. "Make it convincing."

She bites her lip, and there's a little smudge of red on her front tooth. He'd like to lick it off. "Go on," he says, more sharply, because one of the men just looked in their direction, and Annie bends down over his lap. He knows she'll be able to tell he's straining fit to burst, but he hopes she's too polite to mention it.

She doesn't. Instead she just reaches out and strokes him over the bulge in his trousers. Gene's at a loss for words for once. "Let me," she whispers. He shifts to give her better access, and does his level best to keep his eyes on the suspicious pair up ahead.

Annie pops the button on his fly with one hand, and he knows she's done that before, the little tart. He grabs her arse where it's half-off the seat, tugging her miniskirt up. One thick finger catches in a hole of the fishnets, and he rips them open. Her skin's cold, but between her legs she's warm enough. She breathes in, sharp. The two queers or whatever they are walk off together, doing nothing illegal that he noticed, but Annie can't see that and Gene isn't about to tell her.

She works him free and takes the tip of his cock in her mouth. When she pulls back, he can see the bright red of her lipstick against the duller red of his skin, and it drives him wild. He knots a fist in her hair and pushes her back down. She doesn't fight it, swallowing his length as far as she's able, until she almost chokes. He lets her up then, but she doesn't stop.

He shoves his hand down her skirt again, reaching for anything he can get hold of, her cunt or arse or anything. His fingers meet soft, wet curls, and she gasps around his cock. He hasn't got a good angle for anything more than a superficial touch, but it's enough when she's got those whore's lips wrapped around him. He could turn her around to fuck her through that hole he ripped in her stockings, but then there would be talking. It's better this way, so he doesn't have to worry about whether she's on the Pill or whether it counts as cheating on his wife. Easier with just her mouth on him, so he can lean back and let her do the dirty work.

It doesn't take long before he can feel that gorgeous aching heat building. He thinks about giving her a heads up, but doesn't. He wants her to swallow, or see it spatter on her face, and if he warns her she might pull back and leave him with a mess that'll be bloody hard to explain. If she's got half a brain she'll figure it out, the way he's starting to shake. "Fuck," he gasps, and "Annie," and he's lost it, jerking up against her mouth until finally those hard, shuddering pulses slow.

She sits up, licks her lower lip, smearing red and cream together. "Convincing?"

"Damn convincing." He waits until she's straightened her skirt before reminding her she's still got another hour to stand out there.


End file.
